Hazy Shade of Winter
by WriterInTheMaking101
Summary: Just a possible one shot of what would have happened had Izzie told Meredith about her illness, instead of Cristina and what might have happened after. It's a horrible summary, but I'm fairly proud of the story!
1. Chapter 1

**Blech, blech, blech. More one shot stuff (or possibly not actually! I think I may continue, but tell me what you think) about what happens with Izzie's illness. She's my favourite character and I'm so glad she's finally going to be getting a little more attention (though not really in the best way!)**

**This is just a little story of what could have happened had Izzie decided to tell Meredith about the metastic melonama. I thought it made perfect sense that Izzie told Cristina, but I am a big fan of the Meredith/Izzie friendship and so I thought I would try this out! I am quite proud of it, and I hope you like it! Oh! There is a little bit about Sex in the City in here; I've never watched the show and so I just did like, forty second research and found an episode and wrote something about it, sorry if it's a bit off base, for any of you who watch the show!**

"Meredith?" Izzie does not know what she is doing. Well. That's not true. She does know what she's doing, but she doesn't know why now, or why Meredith. Why not Alex, who, after all, is her boyfriend, or Cristina, who is, after all, a robot and wouldn't get all emotional about it. Why there, in the living room, at ten thirty on a Saturday night.

It's not like Meredith is the most emotionally stable person to tell things to, from what Izzie knows Derek acted like an asshole and used his engagement ring for her as a baseball, and now he won't operate and won't return any of her calls. But this is not the kind of thing Izzie can keep quiet about for any longer.

"Hey," Meredith yawns. She is sitting on the couch, a bowl of half eaten Doritos on her lap and the remote in her hand. She is watching TV, an old episode of _Sex in the City._

"Um. Can I talk to you about something?" Izzie poses it like a question, but it isn't really a question. She's going to go ahead even if Meredith says no.

"Sure," Meredith turns the TV off. "What's up?"

And Izzie suddenly doesn't know what to say. She had a speech planned out in her head, but now it suddenly sounds like something that should come from a day time soap opera, the kind her mother used to watch. The words Izzie has made in her mind are not real words or real feelings, they are a facade, an illusion of feeling.

"You know Patient X?" Of course Meredith knows Patient X. If not Patient X, she knows the 'no damn interns in the entire hospital because of Izzie's stupid thing.'

"Yeah, I was going to ask you about that."

"Patient X is me."

Meredith looks confused. "What?"

"I mean... I don't know, where to start exactly."

"Start.. at the beginning," Meredith suggests.

And so she does. She tells Meredith about Denny, seeing Denny and kissing him, being able to touch and talk to him. She tells her about the thing with her vision, and then she tells her about the anaemia patient, until Meredith is all caught up, just until Patient X.

"And so, I told the interns to diagnose the patient.. me. I'm the patient, Patient X. And I knew, right, I knew something was wrong. They thought I was fine, like it was some kind of trick question."

"Was it?" Meredith looks hopeful, like maybe Izzie is just trying to tell her some long winded story about how she's now the most kick ass resident in the hospital, because she's taught her interns to realize when things are fine and when they're not, and now they all worship the ground she walks on, or something.

"No," Izzie smiles wryly. "No, there's something."

"Iz, what's wrong?"

"They said," Izzie takes in a deep breath, "metastic melanoma. Stage four, in my my brain, skin and my liver." In some weird way, it feels both freeing and horrible to tell her.

"I.. what does that mean? I mean.."

"They said.. they think I have three months, maybe. Five percent survival rate."

"Oh my god," Meredith sits for a minute, kneading her fingers together. "Are you sure they're right?"

"Meredith," Izzie smiles, "I thought I was having sex with a dead man. Something's wrong and it.. it makes sense. The interns told me I should go to church. And take a vacation somewhere nice."

"Iz.." Izzie is surprised that Meredith looks like she might cry.

"I just had to tell someone," Izzie says. "And I couldn't tell Alex. He was being all.. future. About us, in the future and I just.. if I'm not even going to be alive in a year I can't.. I can't talk about the future with him."

Meredith reaches out with a hand and it doesn't quite look like it's connected to her body, and then she turns the hand into both her arms, pulling Izzie towards her. "I'm sorry," Meredith says.

"It's not your fault," Izzie says, her voice wavery. They both cry a little bit.

"What are you going to do?" Meredith asks.

"I don't know," Izzie says. She's staring at the black TV, trying not to think too much. "I just.. three months doesn't feel like very long, don't you think? I remember when I was little, and three months away seemed like the longest time in the world and it always seemed like it would never get here.. but three months.. it's not very long."

"Five percent is something."

"Yeah... they won't let me operate anymore." For some reason, this strikes Izzie as the saddest part of all. "I mean, I probably shouldn't have been in the hospital for the last like.. three weeks."

"How come you never said anything? About seeing Denny."

"I told Alex," Izzie says softly. "But, I don't know, he thought it was funny. I mean, not funny, but he didn't think it was serious. And I was so scared, that something was really, really wrong that I just... I made myself believe Denny really was real, and I didn't want to think about what was really going on."

"Oh, Izzie. My god," Meredith shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, I know.. it's a lot. But I didn't know what else to do."

Meredith shakes her head. "Iz, no. I'm your friend, I'm glad you told me. It's just, it doesn't.."

"Feel real?"

"Yeah."

"I know."

"I mean," Meredith breaks a Dorito in the half, orange power lingering on the tips of her fingers. "We get people in all the time that are sick with all these horrible diseases, sometimes they die and sometimes we cure them. But.. it's never anyone we know? Do you know what I mean?"

Izzie nods. "That's it. It's stupid, because we should, I mean, doctors especially, they should expect the worst, right? They should expect people they love to get sick, because the only people we ever freaking see are sick. But I don't, or.. I don't know, I didn't. But now, I am and I just, it doesn't feel real. And I'm worried it's not going to feel real until I'm lying, hooked up to a hundred machines and not even able to breathe by myself."

It's quiet, but not an uncomfortable quiet. Izzie guesses it is the kind of quiet that comes when you find out your friend is dying.

"Are you scared?" Meredith asks.

"About?"

"I don't know. All of it."

Izzie nods. "I'm.. I'm terrified. I've seen patients and they.. it just looks awful. Scary and painful and.. horrible." Izzie is fighting to keep her voice under control and the tears from clouding her eyes.

"Yeah."

In one way, it gratifies Izzie that Meredith doesn't try and deny this, doesn't try and say, "Well, I'm sure it's not that bad, and I'm sure you'll pull through." But in another way, it scares Izzie to death (which is a really goddamn ironic thing to think, but it's true.)

"I.. we'll be here," Meredith says. "You know, for you." Meredith gestures vaugely. Izzie knows Meredith well enough to know that she's not going to go into the whole 'feelings' thing right now. She knows this is her way of letting her know that she won't be alone.

"Okay," Izzie smiles gently at Meredith. Meredith returns the smile (not quite reaching all the way to her eyes, which are filled mostly with fear and worry and sadness.)

Conversation sort of falls away then, and they both fall asleep, sometime during the middle of Samantha's purchase of fake nipples, and Miranda's Marathon Man. Izzie has never watched the show before (she always said it was degrading to women, which was sort of funny, considering she used to model for Bethany Whisper) but now, lying there on the couch with Meredith, she's doing whatever she can to get her mind away from it all. And so she concentrates deeply on the show, trying to pretend like she really gives a shit about any of the characters and their fake nipples and marathon boyfriends.

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Izzie almost forgets, for an instant, when she wakes up. About telling Meredith and even, for a second, about her being sick. She has a gross taste in her mouth, one that comes from not brushing her teeth before bed, and her neck is cramped, from sleeping on the couch. It's early, five thirty, maybe. Her shift at the hospital starts at eight, and so she doesn't have to wake up, but she is going to, because there's no way she'll fall back asleep. Meredith must have gotten up, sometime during the night and gone to bed, because she's no longer beside her on the couch.

Izzie sits up a little straighter, cracks her neck and then settles back into the couch, resting her head on a stack of pillows. Oddly enough, Izzie feels very comfortable. It has been said that those who are dying are often very at peace with the world. Izzie tries to picture herself doing yoga in the OR, bending into Downward Dog, telling the Chief to "chill out" when he yells at her to leave. She smiles at the thought a little and then turns on her side.

"Izzie?"

Lexie's voice makes Izzie jump. "Hey," Izzie nods at Lexie, who is hovering around the breakfast bar. Lexie hovers a lot, Izzie notices. As though she's not quite sure if she belongs where she is or if maybe she should be somewhere else.

"Can't sleep?" Lexie guesses.

"Yeah," Izzie yawns. "Something like that. You?"

Lexie blushes. "I guess not. I'm hungry."

"It's six in the morning," Izzie smiles, watching as Lexie takes out a carton of yogourt and a slice of pizza.

"I've been on call and.. whatever, I'm hungry. Want some?" she waves the yogourt covered spoon around in the air, little flecks flying onto the counter.

"No thanks. I'll probably just go back to sleep," Izzie knows it's not true, she's not even tired anymore.

"Um, Doctor Stevens?"

At that moment, Lexie looks like a little girl who's trying hard to impress her teacher.

"Yeah?"

"I think you're a good teacher. I mean, some of the interns, a lot of them I guess, I know we bitch about you, and at you a lot, but we all think you're a good teacher," Lexie stares down at her plate, picking off a piece of pepperoni.

"Thanks, Lexie," Izzie nods, acknowledging the compliment. She's not sure what to say now, but she feels like she should say something.

"You're welcome," Lexie puts the carton back in the fridge and slides the pizza onto a piece of paper towel. "'Night, Izzie."

"Bye Lexie," Izzie watches Lexie retreat upstairs, and then she surprised herself by really falling asleep.

Her dreams are filled with talking pizza pieces that are dying out, fragments of dancing yogour, and are interrupted by Meredith and Alex getting up, rushing around the kitchen the way they do when they know they're going to be ridiculously late.

"Iz!" Alex tosses his shoe at her. "Get up."

And she's up, just like that. Meredith shoots Izzie a meaningful look. Izzie can't tell if it's saying "Why the hell are you going to work" or "Tell Alex" or "I feel bad because you are dying." Whatever it is, Izzie didn't have much time to dwell on it because just like that, they were heading out of the house, into their cars and to the hospital.

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_Izzie was trying to be patient. She really was. But she had been sitting outside on the trailer stoop, with an old colouring book and a packet of 24 Crayola Magic Markers, coloring a picture of a clown. Clowns scared her mom (Izzie was never allowed to call her Mommy) but Izzie secretly liked them. She thought maybe when she grew up, she would like to be a clown. _

_Her mom had had a boy over last night, she was pretty sure of that. Izzie's mom went out a lot. She told Izzie she felt bad about it, and she always left Izzie money for a pizza, and a few cans of Coke in the fridge, but she always told her that she had to have time to herself. Izzie wasn't quite sure what that meant, because after all she was only six, but she figured her mom had a good reason for leaving the house. She just wished, sometimes, that she wouldn't stay out so late, and come back with weird men that were loud and smelled funny. _

_Izzie held a faded yellow marker in her fingers, concentrating on the clown's frizzy hair, when two women who lived at the trailer park, Josie and Holly, walked past. Holly was walking her dog, it was a tiny little brown one that Izzie could probably fit into a grocery bag. One time, Izzie told her mom she wanted a dog like that, and Izzie's mom told Izzie she was stupid and that those dogs were small and prissy. Well, she hadn't said prissy, she'd said another word, a bad word that Izzie wasn't allowed to repeat._

"_You know," Josie said, puffing on a cigarette. Izzie's mom smoked cigarettes, and Izzie hated them. One time a woman came into their school and gave a presentation about how smoking killed you. It scared Izzie so bad, she threw all her mom's cigarettes in the trash can. She got in big trouble for that. "You know who I feel sorry for?"_

"_Who?" Holly asked._

"_That little Isobel Stevens."_

_Izzie stopped coloring. She was hoping maybe Holly would say, "Why? Why would you ever feel sorry for her?"_

_But Holly didn't. Instead, she said, "Completely. She is going to grow up and be exactly like her mother."_

"_It's a shame, really, she's so sweet and pretty," Josie stomped on her cigarette._

"_She'll be an alcoholic, some dirty woman that sleeps around." Holly shook her head, and sighed softly. _

_Izzie knew a lot of words, because sometimes when she couldn't sleep she took out the old dictionary they had lying around, and read it. Izzie would read mostly anything she could get her hands on. But she didn't know what those words meant; an alcoholic. Someone that slept around. So she picked up her coloring book and her Magic Markers and went inside. On purpose, she slammed the door of the trailer extra loud, hoping that Holly and Josie would hear. _

"_Mom?" Izzie didn't want to be too loud, in case her mom was still asleep. She got angry sometimes, when Izzie woke her up before lunchtime. Carefully, Izzie made her way into the hallway, stepping over a pile of dirty laundry. She stuck her head into her mom's room and saw that she was sitting up in her bed. It made Izzie feel better that she was by herself._

"_Hey Mom," Izzie said, smiling._

"_Hey, sunshine," Mom smiled and patted a spot on her bed. Izzie liked days like this, when her mom wasn't up too late and was in a good mood._

"_Mom?" Izzie asked. "What's an alcoholic?"_

"_What?"_

"_What's an alcoholic?" Izzie repeated._

"_Who said that to you?"_

"_Um. Josie and Holly. But they didn't say it at me. They just said it."_

"_Did they say it about someone?" _

"_Nuh-uh," Izzie chewed on the inside of her cheek. "They just said it. So what's it mean?"_

"_You sure?"_

"_Yup." Izzie said, knowing it was better just to lie a little bit. Once, a woman at the trailer park named Linda had been talking mean about her mom. Izzie told her, and her mom cried for a whole day._

"_Alright. An alchoholic is somebody who drinks a lot of beer, or wine, or any other kind of alcohol. Like how I have a beer sometimes. It's like that, only the person can't ever stop drinking, they feel like they have to do it a lot." Mom explained. Izzie nodded. Her heart hurt. Because this sounded a lot like her Mom. _

"_Okay, now why don't you go back into the living room and watch cartoons, and I'll be up in a little bit. I'm gonna shower." _

"_Can I brush your hair?"_

"_Sure, cricket." _

_Izzie went and sat in the living room. She pretended to turn the TV on, only it had been dead for a couple weeks. It was old and beat up, and Izzie didn't want to tell her mom, because it cost her money to fix the TV, and money meant that she had to have a job. Whenver Izzie mentioned jobs to her mom, she got real mad and sometimes screamed at her. Sometimes she worked, but it was always after dinner until the next morning and Izzie had to stay in the trailer all alone. It scared her._

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Izzie does not know why she has that particular memory at that moment; standing in line to buy her salad in the cafeteria. She doesn't know why it makes her feel like crying. Or, maybe she does a little bit. Maybe it's because she is going to have to call her mom and explain to her that she had, give or take a little while, three months to live. Izzie has not seen her mother in.. a long time. And while their relationship was strained (strained is being kind, it's more like their relationship is obliterated), she is not a cold and heartless bitch. She is not looking forward to calling up her mother and telling her that her only child is dying.


	2. Chapter 2

**I actually feel a little humiliated, posting this after last night's episode of Grey's, because honest to god, it was amazing. Or so I thought anyway, I watched it with my friend and the two of us sat together for like five minutes after bawling. It was amazing and I can't wait for next week! The preview looks great! So I know it would be impossible to make my story as good as the one that was on TV last night, but hopefully it's maybe half a quarter as good! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks so much for reading.**

Izzie knows she has to tell the Chief. She can't keep operating, because she is going to do something wrong, she'll mess up, blank out. And so she has to tell the Chief that she can't operate anymore, it really isn't something she can put off much longer, because at any minute now there could be a trauma down in the ER, a trauma which she might have to help with, and she is not stable enough to do it.

But she cannot quite bring herself to tell the Chief **why **it is she can't operate. For one thing, it seems wrong to tell him, but not tell Alex. And another thing, it already seems like all the residents are dropping; Derek won't operate anymore, not now anyway. She doesn't know what he's going to say when she tells him.

If Izzie knows one thing, it is that the Chief is hard to read. He is unpredictable, and also at the same time, sturdy. It is rare that someone be those two thing at once, but the Chief is.

Izzie contemplates this as she washes her hands in the bathroom. Ever since she found out, she has taken to washing her hands longer than usual. It's stupid, she realizes, but when she was younger and got sick, her mother always used to tell her to wash her hands, as though washing while she was sick would make her cold go away. And now it seems that Izzie has adopted this frame of mind; she has metastic melanoma and there is nothing that will make her live for a long time, but hey, washing her hands will make everything better, won't it? She dries her hands for an especially long time, using a wad of paper towels that she doesn't need. "Screw you global warming," she says in her mind.

When Izzie leaves the bathroom, she runs into two little kids; a boy and a girl. They are standing, uncertainly in the hallway, staring, wide-eyed around them. Izzie's maternal instincts, or whatever it is in her that makes her care about every damn person she comes across, lead her towards them.

"Do you guys need some help?" she asks.

"We went to get a snack," the boy tells Izzie. "But I think we got lost."

"Okay. My name is Doctor Stevens. Who are you?"

"I'm Johnny, and this is my sister Audrey," Johnny is holding Audrey's arm. Izzie is pretty sure he is the older one of the two.

"Alright. Well I'll get you guys to the vending machine and then.. who are you here with?"

"Our Mommy is here," Johnny tells her. "She's sick."

"I'm sorry," Izzie says. "You guys follow me, alright?"

Johnny and Audrey follow Izzie, down the hallway, to the vending machine. "Wow," Audrey's tiny mouth falls open. "That's a lot of food."

"Sure is," Izzie smiles. "What do you think you guys want to eat?"

"Um," Johnny pulls out a handful of coins from his pocket. "Well, we got this much money. What can we get?"

Izzie smiles down at the few quarters that are resting in Johnny's palms. She takes the money from him, the coins warm. "Well. You can each get a chocolate bar and share a bottle of water, you can share a bag of chips and each have a pop, you can get some candy and water."

"I want that one," Audrey points with a cubby fnger to an Aero bar. "Get that one for Mommy," she says to Johnny, indicating to a bag of Lays chips.

"Audrey," Johnny sighs. "Mommy can't have food. 'Member, the doctors said she has to have her surgery and she isn't allowed to eat."

"Stupid doctors," Audrey grumbles.

"Is someone here with your mom?" Izzie asks them.

"We're here," Johnny says simply.

"Someone else. Like.."

"Like a Daddy?"

Izzie can tell, by the way he says 'a Daddy' that there probably isn't one. "Yes," she says anyway.

"Nope. He doesn't live with us anymore."

"Your grandma, or aunt, or something, is she here?"

Audrey shakes her head, reaching into the machine and pulling out her can of Coke, looking fascinated as it clunks to the open slot.

"No. We don't have any family, except for us. Me, Audrey and Mommy. That's our family." He says it protectively.

"Let's get you guys back to your Mom," Izzie runs into Alex on the way to the elevator.

"What are you doing?" he stares skeptically at the kids.

"Taking them to their mom."

Audrey waves at Alex, smiling toothily.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you taking them to their mom?"

"Because they're little and they're lost and they're alone. That's why."

"Okay," Alex nods. "Fair enough." he smiles at Izzie.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just make me smile," he pokes her in the back, and she laughs.

"You guys married or something?" Johnny asks.

Izzie laughs, staring at them in that "don't kids say the darndest things" way, but Alex just half smiles.

"Not yet," he tells him.

Shivers run up and down Izzie's spine, and now she has to plaster the smile onto her face.

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Later on, after she's returned Audrey and Johnny to their mom, a thirty two year old woman with stage three cervical cancer, Izzie paces outside the Chief's office. She knows he is in there, because she can hear him. He is sighing, moving things around, he had been talking to someone on the phone earlier. She rests her head on the wall, resisting the urge to smash her forehead on the smooth surface, like a cartoon character.

"Hey, Izzie," George retraces his steps and stares at her, a little quizzically.

"Hey," she flashes a smile at him, realizing afterwards it probably looks more like a grimace then a smile.

"What're you doing?"

"Oh," she flutters her hands around. "Waiting for the Chief. Well. Not waiting, exactly. I'm just.. I am going to talk to him, but I'm not waiting for him." Izzie is nervous and when she gets nervous, she has a bad habit of talking all chopped up, like she has some kind of speech impediment.

"Oh.. so then, who are you waiting for?"

"Myself, I guess," Izzie says. "Just waiting for myself to go in. Um. To build up the.. courage? I guess."

"He's not **that** scary."

"Oh, I know," Izzie nods for what feels like an hour. "I know."

"Why are you going to talk to him?"

"No reason," Izzie says it as though perhaps her and the Chief are going to have some tea and knit scarves, or something. "Well, I mean, there **is **a reason but not a.. not a reason, reason just sort of a.. reason."

"Are you okay?"

Izzie suspects this is the question George has been going to ask her all along. She wishes he would have started with that, instead of making her stumble over her words and fumble with sentances like she is three years old. "Mm," she thinks about it. No, she is not okay. God, she is really not okay at all. "Sure."

"Are you sure?"

She shrugs. "Yeah. Oh yeah!" she suddenly becomes set on convincing George she is completely okay. "I am great, actually. Fantastic," she smiles/grimaces again and then (for God knows what reason) she flings open the door to the Chief's office. "See ya, George."

"Bye." George wiggles his fingers at Izzie. He is going to find Meredith. Because something is wrong with Izzie. Definitely.

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"Meredith!" George catches up to Meredith in the hallway.

"Hey, George."

"Listen, I think something's up with Izzie."

"Really," Meredith says, nonchalantly.

"Yes. I don't know she's just.. she's being wierd. She's going to talk to Chief, and she won't tell me why and.. have you talked to her?"

"Me?"

"Yes, Meredith."

"No. I haven't talked to her."

"Well, I think somebody should. I really do. Okay?"

Meredith is chewing on her nail. "George, if there's something the matter with Izzie, she'll come see us." Meredith feels like a traitor, she **knows **she is a traitor. But, she reasons, she would be more of a traitor if she told George than if she lied and pretended she didn't know what he was talkig about.

"Or maybe she's waiting for us to talk to her?"

"Or," Meredith said a little more forcefully, "maybe she's not. Maybe there's nothing wrong with her. George, I have to go find my interns."

"Why?"

"God, I don't know, they're my interns," Meredith snaps, and then feels bad. "I just.. you know what we were like?"

George smiles. "Yeah. God, we must have pissed Bailey off so much."

"Probably." Meredith smiles at George. "See you later, okay?"

"Sure."

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Izzie has felt stupid many times before. When you're pretty and you've got blond hair and you were raised in a trailer park, it's easy to feel stupid and inferior. People can make you feel stupid without even trying; Izzie recalls a highschool teacher that was always explaining things slowly to her, after he'd talked to everyone else, making sure she understood. Izzie suspects now that it wasn't so much the factor of him thinking she was stupid; it was probably the factor that she had been pretty and had big breasts and was a cheerleader.

But never before has Izzie felt as stupid as she does right now. Not the time when she though Callie was going to beat the shit out of her for sleeping with George, and all she wanted to do was talk, not the time when she walked in on Alex sleeping with Olivia. Izzie would take being showed up by Callie in the cafeteria any day, over sitting in front of the Chief, saying the things she is saying.

She is not making any sense, first and foremost, that is clear. The Chief had been kind before, she guessed. Especially considering the circumstances he is in.

"Um, Doctor Webber?" Izzie had asked, after bursting into his office. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Stevens, this had better be important."

"It is. Very important."

"Sit down," he had indicated toward the chair in front of his desk, and Izzie had sat down, haphazardly.

And now, she is tapping her foot, and drumming her fingers on the edge of her kneecaps, while the Chief stares at her. Izzie thinks it is with contempt, but she cannot be sure.

"I.. I have to talk to you about something," she says. It starts out fine, she sounds like she knows what she's talking about.

"Okay."

"It's something I've known for a while. On some level. But I just.. I just actually found out a few days ago, and I.. I need to tell you. And it's about me, being in the OR. Or, I guess, not being in the OR. And I know, this probably isn't a great time to tell you this, you know, because Derek isn't really. Well. You know. He's not coming in or calling. And so I just.. sorry about dumping this on you. I know it's uh.. it's bad timing, I guess and that's not fair." Izzie really wishes someone would just tell her to shut up.

Izzie takes in a deep breath. "The thing I have to tell you, it's bad news. And so that's why I think I have to tell you now, because I don't know how much longer I-"

The Chief's pager goes off all of a sudden. He stares down at it for a second. "Stevens, I have to go. They need me on the Dave Young case."

"Chief, I promise I'll spit it out if you just-"

"I'm sorry, Doctor Stevens, but I have to go. You can come back later, and finish.. whatever it is you were trying to say."

She stands up and follows him out of his office. "Damn it," she says, under her breath, in a whisper. Izzie has just blown her chance. It is one of those things where you build up the courage to do it for a long time. You feel the words building in your mouth and you maybe even open and close your mouth a couple times, before the things in your head start to make sounds. And when they do, they're not always rational, not for a while. And then you do it. You just tell them, and it's over.

And Izzie had been in that place, the place where you just say it. She's sure not in that place anymore, and she doesn't know the next time she will be.

She has just blown her chance and Izzie feels like an idiot. A stupid, moronic, dying idiot.

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When Meredith comes home, Izzie is watching _Sex and the City._ She doesn't know why, but maybe it's not that bad of a show. And sure, it's degrading to women. But it's better than infomercials and stupid reality TV shows about poor little rich girls living in houses as big as the hospital on the beach of Newport, or whatever.

"Hey Iz," Meredith smiles gently at Izzie and Izzie waves.

"Hey."

Meredith kicks off her shoes and hangs her purse up, before coming to sit down beside Izzie. They watch in silence for a little while, until Izzie turns her face to Meredith. "I almost told the Chief. I was really close, actually and then he got paged. I don't know if I could have done it anyway. I have to tell him soon, I know I do. I just.. I don't know how I'm going to do it."

Meredith is pretty sure there is a more and so the waits out the silence. She is right.

"But I'll be able to do it. It'll be hard and awful, but I **will **do it. The thing," Izzie swallows. "The thing I don't think I can do though.. I really don't think I can tell Alex. It's not even one of those things, where you don't want to at all, but you know you can do it? This, it's just.. I honestly don't think I can do it."

Izzie plays with the corner of the red blanket that is beside her on the couch. "He's been through a lot of shit. And I know that I'm nothing special, but I just.. I love Alex, I love him a lot and I know that he loves me too and I just think it would.. it might break him."

"Iz."

When Izzie actually looks at Meredith, she sees there are tears in her eyes. "You have to tell him."

"I know I have to," Izzie bites her lip. "I'm just saying, I don't think I can."

"You'll be able to do it."

"If you were dying, would you be able to tell Derek?"

Meredith takes a deep breath in. "Fair enough. I know I don't get to tell you what to do, because you're right. I'm not you, I don't have to tell Derek. But Iz," Meredith smiles a teary smile, "I'm not the greatest person to have around when things are going bad. You need Alex. And he can't be here for you, if he doesn't know what's going on."

"I know that." Izzie discards the corner of the blanket. "But I'm scared."

"Yeah. That's the part I won't say anything about. Because I get that. I mean, I don't. I can't really, I can't get what's going on. But I get the being scared part."

Izzie sniffs. "Alright. I'm gonna go to bed."

"Yeah. Me too."

They both say this, and yet neither of them goes to bed. They watch the rest of _Sex in the City _and then an old rerun of _Cheers_. And then, when they're both fighting to keep their eyes open, they both head up to Meredith's room. It's been a while since Izzie has come into bed with Meredith, because usually Derek was here with her, and Alex was with Izzie. But tonight, Izzie sleeps beside Meredith.

Neither of them sleep very well, Izzie has weird dreams and she keeps waking up and half forgetting where she is. Meredith just doesn't sleep. She watches the clock for most of the night, and like the annoyingly over protective parent, she listens to make sure Izzie keeps breathing.

In the morning, both of them pretend like they slept fine, but at the same time, both know that neither did. It is oddly comforting.


	3. Chapter 3

**I know this is short, but I really wanted to update it before I went to bed! Hope you enjoy, I quite liked writing it. **

Izzie and Alex are sitting on the couch, his arm around her, her head on his shoulder. It is rare the two of them are off from work at the same time, at a decent hour, when no one else is around and they can just stay and be by themselves. And so they're taking advantage of it. Not in the way they might usually have, they're not upstairs in her bedroom, or in his car, or anything like that. They're just sitting together. And it's nice, to just sit.

It's peaceful and calming, and the smart part of Izzie's brain tells her to just leave it alone, and let the peace and calm remain. This is the scared, cowardly part of her brain. But the other part, the stupid, brave part of her brain, tells Izzie to tell him now. Because every day she doesn't tell him, she gets closer to not being there. And while it would be easier, sure, to never tell him, she knows she can't do that.

"Alex?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

She's pretty sure she can feel his smile as he kisses the top of her head. "I love you too, Iz."

"But there's something I need to tell you." She lifts her head from his shoulder. It would be easier to leave it there, and not see his face. It seems like Izzie is in the mood for being difficult today.

"Everything okay?"

"Not really," she says, knowing it is not fair to tell him everything is okay, when in fact she is dying. She thinks it over for a minute, trying to plan it out. Then she stops with the planning and goes right ahead and starts talking.

"You know how I told you I was seeing Denny?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"Well, I guess I didn't really tell you in the.. right way. It wasn't just me seeing him once or twice. I saw him all the time and I actually thought he was real and then.. I figured out something was wrong. It took a while, and maybe if it hadn't, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Izzie," Alex's eyebrows are creased together. "What's going on?"

"Me seeing Denny and you know.. that couple times in the OR, when I thought things were closer or further away, or whatever, it wasn't just stress or.. or something else. It's.. it's metastatic melonama. And they said, it's pretty bad.. five percent survival rate and maybe.. a couple of months. To live."

Alex doesn't say anything, for a little while. Izzie figures this is normal, maybe for a minute or something. But then he starts to scare her. The look in his eyes, that lost, sad, angry look, makes shivers run up and down her arms. She takes his hand, a little unsure. She squeezes it.

He lifts his head, ever so slightly, and bends it towards her. His nose is touching hers, they are staring straight into each others eyes. She can see his hazel eyes, and her green eyes in his reflection. Izzie has been with men before, she's done a lot of things. But, strangely enough, this is the most shockingly intimate she's ever felt.

He lifts a finger and brings it to the outline of her jaw, stroking it lightly. "Oh, Iz." He finally says, softly and carefully.

Their eyes are both full, and her head drops onto his shoulder. He pulls his arms around her, holding her tightly. They can both feel their warm tears on each others skin, and Izzie realizes Meredith was right. Izzie was able to do it. She had done it, just then, she had told him. But it is the hardest thing Izzie has ever done in her life. And while, in one way, she is so happy he knows, in another completely different way, there is nothing she wants more than to take her words back, and for everything to be the way it was.

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Now that she has told Alex, there seems to be no way getting around telling George and Cristina, or the Chief for that matter. Izzie doesn't want any more teary encounters, filled with sorry looks and horribly pregnant silences. Izzie knows she will get off scot free with the tears and the hugs where Cristina and Chief are concerned. She's just not so sure about George.

That's why she wants to tell him somewhere private, where they can both get as emotional as they like. She knows the living room isn't the most private place to be, but Alex and Meredith are at the hospital, and Lexie and Mark are somewhere, probably doing something Izzie does not want to picture them doing.

George looks a little uncomfortable to be back in Meredith's house, Izzie notices that. It's been a while since the two of them were alone together, and an even longer while since they were alone together in this house.

It is sad, Izzie knows, that they used to be together all the time. They used to sit on this very couch and talk all night, Izzie had thought nothing of sleeping in his bed with him, of walking around the house in her underwear, while he watched TV or whatever. It used to all be so normal and now it's just so.. not.

Izzie is drinking tea and George is holding a can of orange soda. "So," he jiggles his knee a little bit. "What's up?"

"George?" She appears not to have heard his question.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For everything that happened with us. I.. I was a bitch, I know that. And you, you were never a bitch to me. You were nice and you were a good friend but I.. I wasn't, really. And I'm sorry about the way things are with us now. You're still my friend, George, and maybe it's not like the way it was before but.. but we're still friends."

George has a knack for waiting out Izzie's rambling talks. "Okay," he nods. "That's okay. It wasn't just you. And it wasn't just me. It was both of us and I.. you weren't a bitch. You really weren't."

"There's more," she cups her hands around the glass of tea, and then puts it back down on the table. Her hands are shaking a little bit, she doesn't trust them to hold the cup. "I'm dying, George. I have metastatic melonama. Skin, brain, liver." She hates the way that has come out. The beginning, like she has had it all rehearsed, the short, clipped way she tells him. She hates it.

"I was seeing Denny," she hurries on, realizing maybe she should have started with this first. "I.. I was seeing him all the time and I.. that's why."

Izzie doesn't know why, but this is so hard. Harder than she thought. Harder than telling Alex, but in a different way. "I'm sorry," she says, pitifully.

George has always been physical; maybe it is because the two of them had been best friends, really and truly best friends, but they always overlapped each other in some way or another. George's elbow touching Izzie's, their legs touching, she would lean against him when they sat down or stood up. They did all this unconsciously, maybe the way a mother unsconsiously touches her kids, the way a boy unknowingly scratches his dog's belly and behind his ears.

And now, the physical side is coming out again. He reaches for her hands, she lets him hold them. He rubs the small portion of skin stretched between her thumb and her index finger, with his own thumb. Then, she draws her legs up, resting her chin on her shins. He puts his arm around her, and she slides down, so that her head is resting somewhere between his shoulder and chest.

Izzie recognizes that this is the closest they have been in a long time. And also she recognizes how not weird it feels.

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She had told Cristina, the night before, and though ithad been emotional, it had not like it had been with everyone else. Cristina had been calm and maybe even a little stoic. But she is not a cold and heartless bitch. She had nodded and said all the right things. She had told Izzie she was going to make an appointment for her with the oncologist, and she'd go with her if she wanted. She had told Izzie that it was going to be hard, and that yes, five percent was not a lot. But it was better than nothing. She had also told Izzie that it was going to be the fight of her life, and she had to fight. Fight hard. And while Izzie had heard all these words before (she herself had said them a hundred times over) coming from Cristina, they meant something.

And now, the only people left to tell are the Chief and Bailey. She gets an appointment with the Chief, and then asks that Bailey be there too. She promises that she will make sense this time, be quick and straight to the point.

Even so, she surprises herself when she sits down, and says to them, "I'm not going to be able to work at the hospital anymore. I appreciate, so much, everything you have done for me, all the opportunities I have had and the chances that have been given to me. But I was diagnosed with metastatic melonama a few days ago, and I know that.. that as a surgeon, it is irresponsible for me to stay and work."

"Izzie.." Bailey says. "How.. what do they think.."

"They gave me a few months, if I'm lucky. They said chemo's an option, and immunotherapy, but even then.. a five percent chance of survival. So." Izzie swallows. "So I can't stay here any longer. I'm sorry," she wipes a few tears away from her eyes.

Bailey comes to the other side of her desk, and puts her hand on Izzie's shoulder. "Izzie, there are options. Aside from chemo, there are.. there's a surgery, they can try and help."

"I know that."

"Derek could do it. I don't just mean.. that he could do the procedure I mean.. maybe he could do it well."

"Yeah," Izzie nods her head. "He's not operating."

"He would," Richard says. "He would, for you. He would operate."

"We'll see," Izzie stands up.

"Izzie?" Miranda says. "I am so, so sorry."

"Yeah," Izzie smiles faintly. "Yeah, me too."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks so much for all the feedback! Rest assured that every review I get for this story makes my day and makes me so happy. Soon I'm going to sit down and answer back all the reviews I have for this story! I'm really busy right now (and tired!) but sometime soon! I finished this chapter before Grey's last night, and am just putting it up now! I loved that episode last night, Alex lying beside Izzie was so, so sweet. Hope you enjoy!**

At breakfast the next morning, Izzie gets up before everyone else. This is quite a feat, considering there are four people living in the house, five if you cound Mark (which Izzie doesn't) and six if you count Derek (which she doesn't currently.)

She doesn't feel like seeing anyone, which is silly, because she is going to have to see people; a lot of people, and if she can't face three of her friends over breakfast, no way in hell can she face the hospital, and doctors and her mother.

But right now, Izzie just wants to eat her bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in peace. She thought it would be nice just to sit at the table, eat her cereal, look at the paper (Izzie never looks at the paper, but there's not much else to do this morning.) And she had been enjoying it actually, until she heard someone coming down the stairs and sitting down beside her.

Slowly, she lifts her eyes from the paper. It's Meredith. "Hey," Izzie wipes a bead of milk from under her lip.

"Hey Iz. Sorry, I just.. I heard you up and I couldn't sleep, so I came down."

"It's okay," Izzie smiles. "It's not like I was doing anything important."

"I talked to Derek," Meredith says suddenly, and Izzie suspects this is the reason why Meredith is down there at four fifty six in the morning, before everyone else is up.

"Oh?" Izzie says it like a casual question, as if she doesn't really care, but her heart has already started speeding up.

"Yeah. About doing the surgery."

"And?"

"I went over to his trailer last night, and I told him about the cancer. And that he needed to do this surgery, because there's a chance.. you know. That he can do it, and do it well. That it will work." Meredith pours hereslf a glass of orange juice and then sits back down beside Izzie.

"What did he say?" Izzie can't help the tiny note of hope that sneaks into her voice.

"He said he'd do it. I brought him your scans and he took a look at them and.. he'll do it."

"Oh," Izzie releases all her worry with that one word. She wipes a few tears from her eyes. "Thanks for talking to him, Mer," Izzie smiles.

"Izzie," Meredith is squinting a little at Izzie, and her eyes are crinkled up at the sides. "What did you think I was going to do? How could I not ask him?"

"I know. Just.. I appreciate it. A lot." Izzie doesn't know why the tears won't stop coming from her eyes. "Sorry," she offers up.

"Izzie, don't be sorry." Meredith smiles at Izzie and squeezes her shoulder. "It's okay."

"I'm not going into work today."

Meredith nods. "I figure you wouldn't."

"I don't know what to do. I mean, I've never really.. not been at school, you know? Not been at highschool or college or the hospital. It's weird."

"You could.." Meredith thinks about this. "God, we really don't have any lives, do we?"

"Nah," Izzie laughs. "We're hopeless."

"I'd stay, if you want. Home with you, just for the day. We'd find something to do."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I want to."

Izzie believes Meredith when she says it (mostly) but even so, she shakes it off. "Really, Mer, it's alright. There's some stuff I have to do." Izzie chews on her fingernail. "I have to call my mom. I should, anyway."

"Really?"

Izzie knows she doesn't talk a lot about her mom, doesn't talk about her ever, really. "Yeah. I mean.. I haven't talked to her in a long time and I don't know.. how everything would be."

"She'll want to hear from you, Iz."

"Maybe."

"Izzie, you're sick. She'll want to know"

Izzie says what Meredith thinks. "I'm dying, you mean."

"We don't know that. Not for sure."

"You think they just told my I had three months to live for the hell of it?" Izzie smiles when she says it, but there's partial truth to what she's saying.

"They** are** interns," Meredith says, rolling her eyes, as though it was decades ago they were interns, and not simply a few months.

"I just don't know what I'd say to her, you know? The last time I saw her I was.. eighteen, I think?"

"Really?" Meredith raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah. I left for school and.. she didn't approve of it, really."

"She did know you were going to **medical **school right?"

Izzie smiles. "Yeah. She thought I was.. I don't know. She thought I would become some rich surgeon and that I'd forget about my roots, I guess. She didn't think I could take being a doctor, that was another thing. She thought I was too soft. And stupid," Izzie laughs and rolls her eyes. "Anyway, I'm going to call her and then.. I don't know. It'll just be weird, that's all. I haven't talked to her since I was like.. nineteen, I think, and left."

"Izzie, that sucks."

Izzie realizes this is going down the dangerous path of "my childhood was so hard, my mother was an alcoholic, please, oh please feel sorry for me" and so she smiles it off (even though the memory of her mother refusing to drive her to the train station still makes her heart hurt) and puts her bowl in the sink.

"You just never talked to her?" Meredith can't seem to get past this.

"No. I called a couple times, no answer. I sent her an invitation to my graduation, she never really showed up."

Meredith shakes her head. "That's brutal."

"Not really. I just don't think we could be together anymore. I mean, I sort of think we were done with each other, if you know what I mean?"

"Sure." Meredith yawns. "Listen Iz, I've gotta go get ready for work. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"I'm sure," Izzie flashes Meredith a smile. "I'll be fine. Go save lives, or whatever."

Meredith laughs. "Or, more like go solve the petty problems of my interns, or whatever."

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Izzie waits until everyone has gone. She kisses Alex good bye, assures Meredith for the hundreth time she will be fine. She makes toaster waffles, fills each square with maple syrup. She cleans the house, a little, just a quick clean (not like Poor Physco Izzie Cleaning.) She changes into a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, puts on her slippers, and then settles down on the couch, with the phone in her hand.

Shakily, she dials her mother's number twice and then hangs up, too scare to let it ring. Finally, she closes her eyes and stabs the redial button.

"Hello?"

Izzie can't make words come out of her mouth.

"Hello?" the voice says again. "Look, if this is a telemarketer, I'm not buying whatever the hell you're-"

"Mom?"

"Who?"

"Mom," Izzie's throat closes up for a second. "Mom, it's me. It's Izzie."

"Cricket!"

"Yeah."

"God damn it! Cricket? Honest to god?"

Izzie smiles through her tears. "Yeah."

"Izzie, I thought I'd never hear you again. Izzie, oh my god! How are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Why are you calling me up now?" she asks. "After almost ten damn years! I missed you like crazy, baby! I thought you'd come back, Cricket! I never thought you'd stay away for as long as you did!"

"Yeah. Me neither," Izzie feels shy all of a sudden. "Mom?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Would you like to have dinner sometime? I.. I have to talk to you about something. It's important."

"Okay. Sure, sure! Where about?"

"I could drive down, for a night?" Izzie suggests.

"Sure! Sure, Izzie, you drive down. How about tomorrow night, you come and you stay for a little while?"

"Okay. That would be nice."

"Damn right it would be nice! Nice to see my own daughter after ten years. I'll be waiting, okay sweetheart? We'll spend time together, just like we used to, right?"

Izzie can't help but think that they never really spent much time together at all. "Sure, Mom. That would be great."

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

"Izzie?"

"What?"

"I love you."

And then she hangs up. Izzie's mother has never been very sentimental, Izzie is pretty sure that the last time her mom said she loved her, she was maybe fourteen or fifteen.

Izzie sits on the couch for a little while, playing with the zipper on her sweater and thinks mostly of her mom. Then she feels stupid and pitiful, so she bakes a batch of chocolate chip cookies, then feels even **more **stupid. So she goes for a walk around the neighbourhood, and doesn't feel so stupid. She decides it is a normal thing to do, go a walk around your neighbourhood.

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Alex comes home at lunch. He had tried staying there and sit at their little table, but it hadn't felt the same without her. They had tried to sit and eat their crappy sandwiches and pizza, limp salads and dry brownies. Izzie loves cafeteria food, she loves airplane food. Alex suspects Izzie just loves any kind of food. Even so, he doesn't bring her home a cookie or a muffin. He buys a box of chocolates and brings them home to her. When he gets there, she's sitting out back on the deck, with a magazine and a glass of lemonade. Alex is glad she is doing something normal, not like crazy baking or lying on the bathroom floor.

He sneaks up behind her, squeezing her around the waist and making her squeal. "Hey," he laughs and kisses her.

"Why hello," Izzie smiles and puts her magazine down. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you."

"I couldn't resist," he holds up the chocolates, offering them to her.

She opens the lid, bites one in half and feeds the other half to Alex. "Yum," she says appreciatively. "Alex, these are good. But you shouldn't have. Seriously, you really shouldn't have."

"Iz," Alex rolls his eyes. "You're at Meredith's house by yourself. How much fun can you be having alone?"

"I keep good company with myself."

"You keep good company with yourself? When did you turn sixty years old?" he smiles at her, appreciating how beautiful she is. "Seriously though, Iz, I just.. it's weird without you, at the hospital. Those little kids are back? Their mom has cancer or whatever, and they got lost again today. They couldn't find you and nobody else would stop to help them, so they ended up in the OR, and they had to page their mom. Huge pain in the ass. The little girl was crying, she said," Alex smiles at what is about to come, "the nice, pretty doctor."

"Oh," Izzie smiles, a little sadly. "Johnny and Audrey."

"Yeah. I guess."

"Nobody stopped to help them?"

"No. That's what's you're for. Stopping and helping, and taking care of the people that nobody else gives a shit about."

"Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you come with my me to meet my mom? I called her this morning, I'm supposed to go.. tomorrow. I know it's really.. it's short notice but I.. I'd like you to come. And meet her."

Alex swallows. "Really?"

"Sorry," Izzie can feel her cheeks turning red. "I know.. you probably don't want to and you have to work and everything.. I'm sorry I asked."

"Izzie, no," Alex puts his hand on the small of her back. "No, that's not it at all. I'd love to go, okay?I.. I'd love to."

Izzie's mouth breaks into a smile. "Oh, Alex." Izzie stands up, pushing her chair back, and hugs Alex, tightly. He returns the hug, gently pressing his fingernails into her back. "Thank you," she smiles at him, a little weakly, but it's a smile nonetheless. "I have to prep you."

"On your mom?"

"God, yeah. There's a lot you need to know."

"We can go have dinner," Alex suggests. "A late dinner, you know, but it would be food."

Izzie almost says no. She almost says, "Alex, that's stupid. You get home late, I'll be tired. Why don't we just stay at home and get Chineese food, or something?" She almost does. But then she remembers, those stupid sayings, "Live every day to the fullest," "Live every day like it was your last one." Izzie used to think they were a little cheesy and repetetive. And maybe she still does, but maybe she's only got three months to live and maybe she'd like going out for dinner at ten thirty at night. And so she smiles and says, "Sure. I'd love to."

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Just as they're about to leave, Izzie carrying her purse and all the information she can remember about her mom, Cristina and Meredith come home. They are not drunk, but it would be better if they were, because then they could just go and dance or discuss their love lives, or do whatever it is the two of them do when they're together.

But it is literally as though Izzie and Alex go to open the door, when Cristina and Meredith come inside. Meredith is sort of meekly following Cristina, while Cristina has that look on her face she gets when she really wants to kick someone's ass, or when she's determined to get some surgery.

"Izzie," Cristina points her finger. "What are you doing?"

"Um. Me and Alex were just going to grab something to eat.."

"No, actually, you're not."

"I think you'll find, that we were." Izzie smiles quizzically at Cristina, before sidestepping her.

"Izzie. You have to go to the hospital."

"Why?" Izzie doesn't get this. "I told Bailey, I took a leave of absence.. they don't expect me back at the hospital."

"Izzie. Are you sure you're a doctor? You have metastatic melanoma, stage four. You really think you can just go out for dinner and piss away all this time?"

"I wasn't exactly planning to.. to piss away time." Izzie almost looks a little amused. "I was just going out for dinner."

"Izzie! Chemotherapy, immunotherapy, surgeries! You have to.. that stuff has to be done soon, do you have any idea how fast this thing will.. how fast it works?" Cristina looks.. not pissed off exactly. A mixture of pissed off and concerned and annoyed.

"Cristina.. I can go out for dinner one night." Izzie almost says, "Its' not going to kill me." but then decides against it, and so instead opts for taking Alex's hand and semi dragging him around Cristina.

"Izzie! Derek's doing your sugery tomorrow! You've got to.. you have to go to the hospital!"

"What?" Izzie turns to Meredith. "You never told me that."

"Iz.. I just found out, he agreed to it, to try and remove the mets from your brain. **I **wanted to tell you that part first, then move onto the making you come to the hospital," Meredith says, trying to justfity herself.

"There are tests and labs and you've gotta come, Izzie. Okay?"

Izzie looks at Alex, trying to gather some sort of ammunition from him. "You weren't in on this too, were you?"

"No but I.. what they're saying is right, Izzie. You should go." Alex puts his arm around Izzie. "We'll eat another time, okay? I promise. And I'll stay all night with you and you can tell me everything there is to know about your mom."

"But.. I'm supposed to go see her tomorrow," Izzie feels like a little kid that's being hopelessly overuled by her parents. "Meredith, my mom. I was going to see her tomorrow. And stay for the night."

"I'm sorry, Iz. I'm really sorry. But.. we have to do the surgery now, okay? Now is so much better than later."

Izzie exhales, shakily. "Alright. But someone's got to call my mom. And I can't do it. I don't want this to be another thing she can add to her list of disappointments."

"Izzie, you're-"

"Just.. leave it, okay? Can we just go to the stupid hospital


	5. Chapter 5

Izzie feels out of place, sitting up in the hospital bed. She has been on the flip side of this situation so many times that it's somewhat ridiculous; every morning for rounds, every time someone new is admitted, every time she goes to check on patients or prep them for surgery. Sometimes she doesn't even think about it anymore, she reads off the name on the chart with part of her brain, thinking about what she'll make for dinner with the other part, she robotically spews out names of diseases like they are the names of her favorite TV shows or last night's weather forecast.

But never before has Izzie been the one listening to the doctors talk at her (not to her, but at her, there is a difference), never listened to treatment plans, times for chemo and prep for her surgery, survival rate, risks.

Granted, it is Doctor Bailey and Derek, and so this should make her feel a little better. It does, sort of, but the thing is she knows what they're probably thinking. Izzie has had cases like this before, where the diseae is bad and the prognosis even worse. Izzie tries to have faith and hope and all of that, when she's talking to her patient. But in her head, she's thinking, "What a shame. This guy has kids and a wife" or, "That's awful, this girl's never going to even get married." She knows, logically, that Bailey and Derek are probably thinking, "Poor Izzie, young, with a career ahead of her, dead before she turns thirty," or whatever.

"So, Izzie," Bailey is saying, in that doctor's voice, but with a little smile and comforting eyes, "you know there are mets on your brain and your liver, and over the next week or so, we have seven surgeries planned for you. Today, Doctor Shepard is going to work on removing the mets in your frontal lobe. Okay?"

"Yeah," Izzie nods.

"Any questions?" Derek asks, stepping forward.

"Um, no. Thanks," Izzie smiles.

"Alright. See you in the OR," Derek nods to her, before leaving the room.

"Izzie?" Bailey is lingering by Izzie's bed.

"What's up?"

"Have your friends been in to visit you today?"

Izzie pretends to think about it for a second, although she knows the answer right away. "No. Not yet."

"Have you talked to them?"

"Not in a little while."

This is true, sort of. Alex, Meredith and Cristina had brought her into the hospital. Alex had stayed for a while, fallen asleep, gone home to shower and get something to eat, Meredith had poked her head in a few hours ago and now.. "They're at work," she clarifies. "With their patients and everything."

"You want them to come see you?"

Izzie doesn't know if Bailey is asking whether Izzie wants to see them, or whether Izzie wants Bailey to make them come see her. "They're busy," she shrugs.

"They're not too busy for you."

"It's fine, Doctor Bailey. They'll stop in."

"Okay. Anything I can get you?"

"No thanks," Izzie smiles, slightly.

"Alright. I'll be in in a little while." Bailey leaves the room, closing the door gently behind her.

Izzie keeps the smile plastered on her face until Doctor Bailey is gone and the door has shut completely. She knows it's stupid and superficial, but the one thing Izzie keeps thinking about is her hair. Ever since Izzie was a little kid, her hair is something she's liked. Her friends used to love and braid, straighten, curl and do whatever they could to her hair. She was proud of the fact that when people said, "How often do you dye that?" she could reply, "Never, it's natural."

And now they are going to have to shave it off for the surgery. They haven't told her exactly, but she knows they'll have to. And it's not so much the idea of her hair being gone she hates, (although she does, she hates it so, so much) it's more the fact that having all her hair gone sort of makes her stand out as that girl with cancer. When Izzie sees bald people on the street, she always gets a pain near her heart, and feels sorry for them. She wonders how long they've been sick and if they're ever going to get better. Now Izzie is going to be the one causing people pain, going to be the one that people feel sorry for.

And if there's something Izzie hates, it's pity. She knows some people like pity, there are some people that just like for others to feel sorry for them. She understands that, she guesses. She gets that people like to have attention. But she herself can't stand that look people get on their faces, the way they make their voices gentle and careful, the arched eyebrows.

And now the pity is inevitable, because she is going to be the bald girl. Alex used to kiss her on the top of her head, to play with her hair. Now, when he kisses her head, he's going to feel bare skin and there will be no hair to play with.

This thought sends shivers running up and down Izzie's spine, and so she picks up the old copy of _People _lying on her bedside table. She stops thinking about the hair factor, the dying factor, the fact that none of her friends have come to visit her, and thinks instead about the possibly affair Brad had with Angelina and the on again, off again thing with John and Jennifer.

**GAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAG**

Izzie walks (wobbly, and feeling dizzy) to the payphone outside her room, to call her mom. She found a quarter in her purse, and she knows she can't wait any longer.

Closing her eyes to steady herself, she pops the quarter in and dials her mom's number. She picks up right away.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mom, it's me."

"Izzie. Hey! Honey, I'm so excited for you to come down tonight, I miss you so bad."

"Mom," Izzie bites her lip. "I'm sorry. I can't come."

Her mom sighs. It's a sigh that Izzie guesses is filled with all the things Izzie's done to disappoint her mother, the times she's let her down, not called, not visited or written.

"I'm sorry. I want to, really badly. But I.. I have to be here."

"Well, what have you got going on that's more important than your mom?" she laughs, but she doesn't sound amused.

"That why I was coming, Mom. To tell you that I'm sick. I have stage four metastatic melanoma. It's.. it's pretty bad. But I have to have an operation this afternoon, to try and remove the mets from my brain, so I can't come."

This is what Izzie should say. This is what Brave, Confident Izzie says. But the real Izzie sighs and, with all her worry and cowardliness and says, "I'm sorry, Mom. I have this huge thing, this afternoon, I'm supposed to do this.. this solo surgery," Izzie is inventing lies out of nowhere. "And I can't miss it. It's huge. I'm sorry." Izzie tacks the sorry on weakly, she knows it's not doing much.

"Well. Well, I should have guessed. That's the way it always is, right Cricket? You staying at that damn hospital, picking it over me, every single time. That's fine. I wasn't expecting you'd come anyway. You just.. you have fun on that surgery, Izzie."

"Mom, no wait, I-"

And then the dial tone.

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Izzie was asleep (she thinks she was, anyway, she's been drifting in and out of some kind of dreaming for a while now) when she hears the door open, the sound of a few people's feet coming into her room, and then the door closing again.

When she opens her eyes, it takes her a second to realize that it isn't Derek or Bailey, or any of her friends, it's Johnny and Audrey. They look like they badly need a cooked meal and a bath.

"Doctor Stevens?" Johnny holds a bag of sticky Gummi worms up to Izzie. "Sorry, we know we aren't supposed to come visit you. But a doctor.. he said he was your friend.. Alex, or somethin'? He told us where you were. 'Cause our Mommy's havin' her operation right now, and our neighbor is lookin' after us, but she's boring and having a nap, so we thought we'd look for you."

"We didn't you were sick too," Audrey says, her tiny eyes wide.

"Yeah," Izzie smiles. "Thanks for the candy, guys. But why don't you keep it? I'm having an operating too in a little while, and I'm not supposed to eat anything."

Johnny looks crestfallen. "We bought it 'specially for you," he says. "From the corner store. And we didn't even it any."

"Alright," Izzie holds the bag in her hand. "That was really sweet. I'll save it for after, okay? And then I'll eat them all up."

"Okay."

"So," Audrey itches her forehead, "what's the matter with you?"

"Audrey!" Johnny elbows her. "You're not supposed to just **ask **that."

"It's okay," Izzie laughs a little. "I have something called metastatic melanoma, it's a type of skin cancer."

"Our Mommy has cancer too."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Johnny shrugs. "So they're gonna operate on you?"

"Yup! This afternoon. I have to have lots of operations, to try and take out the cancer."

"How many?"

"They said seven. Maybe more," Izzie says this as though having seven operations is as fun as going to a water park or having a birthday party.

"That's a lot." Audrey says, incredulously.

"Is it gonna work?" Johnny asks.

Izzie has forgotten that about kids; how much they love asking questions. "I hope so! The doctors think it will." Izzie really does not have the heart to tell these kids there's a five percent chance the operations will 'work.'

"That's good. I had to have an operation once, 'cause I had something wrong with my tummy." Johnny points near his hip bone. "A citis, or somethin'."

"Appendicitis?" Izzie asks.

"Hm. Maybe. But I had a really big scar and Mommy brought me ice cream in bed. It was cool. We're not allowed to bring Mommy ice cream though, 'cause our neighbor won't let us buy any from the cafeteria. She's kinda grumpy."

Audrey giggles at this, putting her hands to her cheeks. "Oh, Johnny. You're bad."

Izzie smiles at these two. There is something about them she finds so.. adorable isn't even the right word. Precocious, maybe, or maybe it's just they're so sweet and innocent. She'd like to take them home with her.

"Anyway, we just wanted to see if you were feelin' okay," Johnny tells her. "'We thought maybe you were kinda lonely. Are your friends gonna come visit you? When I had my citis, my whole entire class came to visit me. And they brought me chocolate. That was cool."

"He's bragging," Audrey says, nodding wisely. "I broke my arm 'cause I falled from a tree, and my class came to visit me too. Only they didn't bring chocolate, they brought me a doll. Dolls are a hundred trillion times better than chocolate."

Her door opens again and a bigger woman, holding a cup of coffee and a doughnut, sticks her head in. "There you kids are. Come on." she turns to Izzie. "God, I'm so sorry. I'm Zooey, I'm just looking after them while their mom's here. Sorry, they wander off all the time. What did I tell you two about bothering the patients, you're supposed to just stay put for five seconds."

"They weren't bothering me," Izzie says, shaking her head. "Honestly, they're really sweet."

Zooey grabs Audrey's wrist, and all but yanks her from Izzie's hospital bed.

"Bye Doctor Stevens," Audrey waves with one hand, and Johnny follows.

"We'll come visit you later, okay?" Johnny offers.

"Sure. I'd love that."

"You'll do no such thing." Zooey seems to have completely ignored the fact that they're not annoying her at all. "And again, I'm really sorry."

After Johnny and Audrey have gone, the little bag of Gummi worms sitting in her lap, it occurs to Izzie as rather sad that two little kids know enough to come and see her, but her friends, her best friends, won't even come.

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"Izzie?"

It's Meredith. "Hey," Izzie wiggles her fingers at Meredith.

"I'm sorry.. for not coming earlier. I just.."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't. It really.. it's not okay at all. And I'm sorry."

"Okay."

"So, they're starting pretty soon, right?"

Izzie nods. She tightens her grip on the blanket covering her legs. "Yeah. An hour, or something. They have to.. my hair. You know. Get rid of it. And then they'll start."

"Oh." Meredith looks like she's not sure what to do with this information. "Izzie that.. that's really awful."

"It's just hair," Izzie says, in her most unconvincing voice. "It'll grow back."

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely."

"But still.. I'll miss it." Izzie smiles and, almost unconsciously, touches a lock of her hair. "How's Derek? Do.. will he be okay? I.. I know he's your boyfriend and.. you know, I don't not trust him I'm just.. you know."

"I know, Iz. He'll do good. He will. He's ready. He is, it's just that thing with his patient.. it scared him, I think. And it made him upset. But he's ready for this."

"Yeah," Izzie nods. "I'm sure he is. Of course he is. But.. I'm still nervous. Scared, really."

"Of course you are. I'm scared too."

"That's reassuring," Izzie says, with a half smile. "I called my mom. I couldn't tell her.. over the phone, about it. So I told her I had a big surgery. She hung up on me." Izzie bites her lip, hard.

"Oh Iz." Meredith sits down on Izzie's bed.

"She's really mad. She thinks I'm choosing the hospital over her. Again. Just like when I was nineteen." Izzie rolls her eyes, trying to make the tears stay in her eyes.

"She'd understand, if you told her. Of course she would."

"It's just too hard," Izzie says.

"Yeah."

"And.. when you haven't talked to your mom for ten years.. and you don't even know each other, because really, we don't know each other anymore, I don't know if we ever did.. it's hard to just tell her you're dying."

"Would you stop?" Meredith's eyes are wet. "With the saying you're dying? You're not. You're sick, Iz, you're really sick. But as far as I'm concerned.. you're not dying. You are living, you are **going **to live."

"But.. you know, right? There is a **ninety five **percent chance I won't live. You don't seriously think-"

"Yes," Meredith takes Izzie's hand. "Yes I do seriously think you are going to live. Not just because Derek is my boyfriend and not just because you are my friend, alright? I do seriously think you are going to live."

"Really?"

"Yes, Izzie. Really."

"Thank you," Izzie smiles, shakily. "I just.. I think I needed someone to tell me that."

"And Alex thinks so too, just so you know? He's scared, and he's worried as hell, but he thinks so too."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the long update! Enjoy! :)**

"Alex!" Meredith grabs Alex by the arm and sort of turns him around.

"What?"

"Izzie needs you."

"Hm?"

"I **said**, Izzie needs you."

"Did she ask for me?"

Meredith rolls her eyes. "Alex, her surgery starts in fifteen minutes. She didn't ask for you, but she **needs **you. Do you.. she's scared, she is so, so scared."

"Yeah, but she didn't-"

"Alex, it doesn't matter if she asked for you or not. She's Izzie, she's not going to ask for you, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need you. You go, whether she asks you to, or not."

"Fine," Alex says, like he is doing a big favor to Meredith.

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Alex gets off the elevator and forces himself to stop clicking the pen in his pocket, to stop tapping his fingers on the side of his pants and stop itching his nose. He forces himself to think about what, or rather, **who **is really important right now; Izzie. Izzie is the one that matters right now.

Alex prepares himself to see Izzie looking broken and devestated, tired and sad and sick. But he has not prepared himself to see the lack of gorgeous, blonde hair that is normally hanging on her head.

Izzie looks up, looks into his eyes for a second and then quickly looks away. "Hey," she says, softly. "Thanks for coming. I guess.. did Meredith come get you?"

"Yeah. Sorry, for not coming. I was just being.. stupid," he says, for lack of a better word.

"It's okay. I'm just glad you came. Sorry," she says. "About my hair. They had to.. you know. For the surgery."

"Iz." Alex takes her hand.

"What?"

"Look at me," he puts his hands around her face and tilts her chin upwards, so that she is staring into his eyes. "Izzie. Hey. Look at me."

She does, her eyes shining bright with tears.

"Izzie. You are beautiful. You look beautiful, with or without your hair, you are stunning. Okay?"

"I won't be though. I won't be beautiful, not much longer. I have to start chemo soon and it's.. it's rough. Bailey said it's really intense. I mean, I've seen it on patients but.. you know. I won't look good."

"I don't care."

"You will," Izzie says, matter of factly. "You'll care."

"I don't care what you look like, Izzie. I love you."

"I love you too," Izzie says, with a shudder, resting her head on Alex's shoulder. "And Alex? If something happens-"

"Nothing is going to happen."

"Alex, just.. if something **does **happen, I need-"

"Iz. You are going to be fine."

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Meredith doesn't even really think about it. It's an idea that's been looming in the back of her head for a little while, and once the surgery starts, she needs _something _to keep her busy. So she steals a quarter from one of the interns, finds the nearest pay phone, and dials Ronnie Steven's number. Ronnie is Izzie's mom. Meredith knows her name and the most hazy facts about her background.

Meredith jiggles her knees and bites her lip. When Ronnie finally picks up, Meredith wishes she had never called. "What the **hell** do you want now?" is the way she greets Meredith.

"Sorry," Meredith says, off the bat. "Is this.. Ms. Stevens?"

"Ronnie, you mean?"

"Yeah. Ronnie."

"Yes. Why? Who are you?"

"I'm Meredith Grey, I'm a friend of your daughter's. Izzie," Meredith says, just in case.

"You a doctor too?"

"Yeah, I am. Listen, Izzie called you earlier, right? And she told you that she couldn't come down and visit you because she had a big surgery. Right?"

"Yes," Ronnie says, and then coughs. "Yeah, she did."

"That wasn't.. that's not exactly true. I know it's not really any of my business, but I think that Izzie wants you to know, she's just too scared to tell-"

"Meredith, honey. Stop babbling and just tell me what the hell it is you called me for."

"Okay. It's Izzie. She's sick, she has metastatic melanoma. It's stage four and it's.. it's pretty bad. She's the one having the surgery right now, they're operating on her brain just now, trying to remove some of the mets. I just.. I thought you might want to know. You can come visit her, if you want."

"She's.. that's.. skin cancer?"

"Yes," Meredith nods. She's desperate to tell Ronnie what she wants to know. "It is, and Izzie has it in her brain and her liver. She just found out a few days ago, so we're.. we're doing everything we can," Meredith finishes up lamely. "Would you like to come see her? The surgery should be over in an hour or two, and she'll be out for a while after but once the anaesthetic wears off, from the surgery, she'll be awake."

"Okay," Ronnie is quiet for a little while. "My baby girl." Meredith knows she is not talking to her anymore.

"I'm really sorry," Meredith says. "But we're at Seattle Grace Hospital, and if you.. if you do decide to come.. I think Izzie would love to see you."

"Yeah. Sure. Thank you," Ronnie hangs up the phone.

"Shit," Meredith mutters.

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The four of them end up together in the gallery, watching. Or sort of watching, anyway. George isn't watching much, mostly he's standing up and leaning against the glass window, then sitting down or going to get a drink of water, like if he stays too long, something bad will happen.

"O'Malley," Cristina says after a while, "sit down."

"Hm?"

"I **said,** sit down."

"I can't sit."

"You're making me dizzy. Just sit your ass down."

"If he can't sit," Alex says, "then he can pace, or do whatever the hell it is he's doing. He doesn't have to sit."

"Jesus," Cristina says. "Fine. Sorry," she says grudgingly. "Continue to pace."

George shoots Alex a look that is halfway between grateful and oh so confused.

"Meredith. You think Derek's ready for this?" Alex asks Meredith.

It is a question Meredith has expected would come, she had been prepared for it since they knew Izzie was having the surgery. But she had thought it would come sooner. Like say, before Izzie was actually **having **the surgery.

"Alex. Yes. Derek is ready."

"Okay," he holds up his hands defensively. "I'm just.."

"I know," she says. "I don't blame you for asking. But yes. He's ready."

"So," Cristina turns to Meredith, "you and McDreamy back together, or what?"

Meredith considers. "Yeah. I guess." She doesn't feel like discussing her and Derek right now. Or, more specifically, she knows she **shouldn't **feel like discussing her and Derek.

"You guess?"

"I mean.. yeah. We are. It's.. complicated."

"Complicated is not a word, Meredith." Cristina is a firm believer in this. Fine is another word, a word that is not a _real _word.

"Okay. Fine. Yes are back together. But it **is** complicated. It's hard. Now, shut up."

Cristina rolls her eyes, but shuts up.

"We probably shouldn't even be here," George offers, after a litte while. "We'd probably get in trouble, if they knew. 'Cause we know her, and everything."

"You suggesting we leave?" Cristina says, not cruelly.

He shrugs. "I don't know if we can stay." He paces some more. "But I don't know if we can.. not stay. She's.. she's Izzie. We can't leave."

"She's under the anaesthetic," Cristina says, half heartedly. "She doesn't even know we're here."

"I think she does," George says. "I.. I think she does. Some part of her knows."

"It's screwed up," Alex nods. "That this happens to her. Why not that physco bitch that was in last week for beating the shit out of her kid with a baseball bat, and then the kid threw her down a flight of stairs. Why not her?"

"I called her mom," Meredith admits. "Ronnie. She's coming down, tonight. To see her." She chews on her lip for a little while.

"You think she'll be pissed?" Cristina asks.

"I.. I can't tell. I don't think so. Maybe a little scared, but not pissed."

Alex looks relieved at this. Not because Ronnie is coming down, although he guesses this is a good thing for Izzie. He's relieved that Meredith believes Ronnie will be **able **to see Izzie after the surgery. Meredith believes Izzie is going to survive. And if Meredith believes this, cynical, arcane Meredith believes Izzie will be okay (at least for now) then he allows himself to buy into the fantasy of her being okay (for now) and maybe, if he gets lucky, forever.

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_Ronnie knew that Izzie wanted her to be proud. Standing in the kitchen, holding the acceptance letter in her hand, Ronnie knew she should have been proud of her daughter. Because already, at eighteen, she was so much further than Ronnie could ever hope to be. She was going to university, for one thing. Some fancy ass university, to study to become a doctor. _

_Ronnie did not understand why the hell her baby Cricket wanted to be a doctor. She liked helping people, that had always been obvious, and Izzie was smart. She was a smart kid, she always had been. But Izzie was also pretty. She was gorgeous, really, a knock out. Ronnie knows that she herself is okay looking, and when she was younger, she had done a few modeling gigs to pay the rent, or whatever. But she knows Izzie could make money, good money, better than what Ronnie had made doing the few fashion shows in the gritty strip mall on the edge of town, when she was Izzie's age._

"_Mom," Izzie said, smiling. "Look. I got in! Can.. I mean, it's crazy, right! I never thought I would! But they said it was mostly my essay that did it, about why I wanted to be a doctor." Izzie bounced on the balls of her feet, tugging at her white cheerleading skirt. Practice had just ended, and the letter had been waiting for Izzie on the kitchen table when she came home. _

_And before Ronnie even knew what she was doing, words were spilling out of her mouth. "Cricket, that's nice. But you're not really gonna go, are you? That's just a joke, sweet pea, you can't be a doctor."_

_Izzie raised her eyebrows and got that look in her eyes that meant business. "Why not? Why can't I become a doctor?"_

"_Izzie, you're smart. But you're not tough enough, you love too much. And people like us.. we're not supposed to be doctors." Ronnie had never belonged to the school of parenting that encouraged wishful thinking in their children._

"_That's a piece of crap. What are 'people like us' supposed to do then? Style hair? Take out garbage? Work out the godamn Dairy Queen for the rest of our lives?"_

"_Izzie, calm down. For god's sakes, you've always gotta take everything too far. This is a fad, hon. This wanting to be a doctor, wanting to leave here. You'll grow out of it, just like you grew out of horseback riding, ballet, piano, softball and acting."_

"_No, Mom. I'm not going to grow out of it, because this isn't a fad. Wanting to leave here? Sure as hell not a fad. I don't want to leave __**you**__ Mom, but I've wanted to leave this trailer park since I was seven years old."_

"_I won't pay for it," Ronnie said, in a selfish, half ditch attempt to change her mind._

"_I didn't expect you to," Izzie spat back, her eyes filling with hot, angry tears. "I know you couldn't afford it, the only thing you do is sit in your ass all day and then go serve drinks to stoned business men down at the bar all night. What do you make, six bucks an hour? Plus," she put her hand to her hip, "whatever __**tips **__they give you."_

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Sure enough, the Chief came five minutes later to shoo them away. "I know she's your friend," he says, "and I know you're worried about her.. I'm worried about her too. But you can't be here."

They wait outside then. George doesn't pace anymore. He sits, beside Meredith, who is sandwiched in bewteen George and Alex. Cristina goes to get some Pringles and a coffee, although she knows perfectly well she isn't going to eat or drink either one. She's never been able to digest well when she's scared.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, Meredith, very slowly and lightly, touches her hand to Alex's elbow. He stares up at her, and the look in his eyes makes her want to cry a little bit. "She's going to be alright." she tells him.

"When the **hell **was the last time you saw a patient this screwed up, come out alive? I don't mean out of the OR, Derek will do a fine job on the surgery. I mean.. when have you ever seen someone so sick be okay?" Alex takes his elbow back.

"She's Izzie," Meredith says, although she knows this isn't making much sense. "She is Izzie. She'll be alright. She has to be alright."

"Nobody has to be anything," Alex says. "If things had to be a certain way, Izzie would not be dying. But things don't have to be anyway. Diseases don't give a shit who they kill. They don't know who they're hurting, who they're destroying."

Meredith does not try and counterattack, not right away, anyway. "Sometimes," she says finally, "we just have to look beyond the scientific part."

"We're doctors. Science is our Bible."

"Izzie goes to confession."

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Science is the law, but there is an exception. And the exception, Alex, is faith and miracles and believing that sometimes, things just work out."


End file.
